


She, I Love

by Cade Welentine (cadewelentine)



Series: Night Vale Poetry Portfolio [4]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: F/F, Poetry, sort of OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4023307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadewelentine/pseuds/Cade%20Welentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I love the way she does her hair<br/>Pulling it back until only one color is visible.<br/>Turquoise.<br/>Taupe.<br/>Turquoise-Taupe."</p>
            </blockquote>





	She, I Love

**Author's Note:**

> I have these gorgeous head canons of Human!Night Vale and Human!Weather, and they are so in love and its adorable, so I wrote this poem to share it with all of you at least a little.  
> Thanks, as always, for reading, and feel free to leave comments.

I love the way she does her hair

Pulling it back until only one color is visible.

Turquoise.

Taupe.

Turquoise-Taupe.

Coal Dust.

Indigo.

I don’t know how she does it.

But I love it.

I love the colors of her skin.  
Like a rainbow I can touch.

She models every color that the humans come in.

When a new one arrives,

She gains a new color.

Just yesterday, her finger turned the color of roasted hazelnuts.

I love the way she stands

Back straight, feet front, nose pointing straight ahead.

Like a woman of the military.

I love the way she walks

Careful and measured.

Each step is calculated, as she knows the consequences that come from one wrong

_flick_

of her skirt.

I love the way she treats that dress.

It is an extension of herself.

She keeps it clean

But never pressed.

And she would never dream

of tossing it in the washing machine.

I asked her, once, where she got it.

She said it had been handed down,

for generations.

That her mother wore it.

And her grandmother wore it.

Which I find hard to believe,

considering its style.

But I would never argue with her.

I would never upset her.

Would never do a thing

to jeopardize the smile

that cracks across her face

when that man, on the radio, from that town that shares her name says,

“And now, the Weather.”

 


End file.
